The Prince and Ariel
by lizb1813
Summary: This story takes place about 6 months after Baltimore. The USS Nathan James has made its way along the eastern shore and into the Gulf of Mexico, stopping in Tampa, Florida, to find a lab, supplies, and family of some of the crew. Everyone's hoping that it will be an easy mission, but nothing's ever easy for the crew of the James. Eventual Tom/Rachel.
1. Chapter 1

"XO has the bridge," Captain Tom Chandler, USN called out as he vacated his chair. He nodded to his XO, CMDR Mike Slattery as he left the bridge.

"XO has the bridge, aye, sir."

Tom opened the hatch separating the bridge to the outside deck and walked through, taking in the cool, crisp morning air. He leaned his forearms on the railing and looked down to the decks below as the sailors walked with a purpose, preparing the _Nathan James_ for anchor; the crew worked as a well-oiled machine thanks to the dedicated men and women deployed on her. _Remind Mike to have the haul looked at while we're here – we don't need any surprises the next time we're in a bind._ _Also, tell the supply recovery teams to find more soap and toothpaste – we're running low – and to not just focus on food. Although we do need food… maybe they could find some chickens?_ Tom chuckled out loud. _Chickens on an Arleigh Burke destroyer? What would ADM Halsey say?! He'd be rolling over in his grave. But, we've got to find a way for food to replenish itself. Chickens would work._ Tom ran his hand through his Navy regulation haircut, sighing. _Being captain isn't all fun and games._ _Also, I'll have to ask Dr. Scott if she would mind accompanying me on today's mission. Wasn't able to ask her last night at dinner… maybe once we've figured out a way to manufacture this vaccine, she and I can have a talk about-_

The hatch opened behind Tom with a clang, and he sucked in some air as out stepped the object of his most recent thoughts, Dr. Rachel Scott.

"Good morning, Doctor. Ever been to Tampa?" Tom raised his eyebrows and smiled, motioning her to join him at the bulwark.

"No, I'm afraid not," Rachel replied, taking in a lungful of the refreshing ocean air. "I wasn't one to travel to large cities on vacations – I'm more of a rugged outdoors type."

Tom nodded, filing that bit of information for further study at a later moment.

"I was just about ready to come see you – could you accompany me today as we head into the city?" Tom asked. Rachel nodded her head as Tom motioned her back inside the _DDG-151_ and down ladders through the ship. "I could use your help finding some more scientists to help us mass-produce the vaccine, since the distribution did not go so well the last time," Tom frowned, remembering all of the murdered scientists. "There's an office of the CDC based here at the university – hopefully we'll find some lucky souls still alive that can help the cause. We'll have anybody that we find vetted by you and myself, and under watch at all times on the _James._ I know it's not the ideal place to make the vaccine, but we can't have a crew on shore keeping you and the scientists safe and at the same time keep the ship under tight security," Tom ducked through a door, halting his speech momentarily until he could walk and talk through the passageway. "We will have to be a floating lab. I know you will also need supplies, which is also why I'm asking you to come along." Both the captain and doctor stepped into the empty wardroom; Tom poured himself a cup of coffee and Rachel a cup of tea. "Before we leave however, please tell HM Rios where everything is in your lab, just in case something happens to us," Tom added, looking Rachel in the eye. "I need you to know that I don't know what we're walking into – Com has had no radio contact with any survivors in the vicinity, and the Seahawk hasn't reported any movement during it's recon missions. However if we do happen to come under fire, the Seahawk will be standing by to get you out." Tom took a sip of his coffee.

"Yes, Captain, I will make sure Doctor Rios is up to date on all critical information pertinent to the cure. When are we leaving?"

"15 mics."

"Captain, that's not enough time-"

Tom grinned. "We can leave when you're ready, Doctor."

Rachel eyed him carefully. "Are you sure, Captain?"

"Yes, ma'am. LT Green, ENS Mason, and two other POs will be joining us. They will be ready when you are."

"What is everyone else doing?"

"Well, Mr. Nolan, CMC Jeter, and LT Granderson, along with some others each have a team of ten personnel. Their primary mission is to find any survivors and inoculate them. Their secondary mission is to spread out in their teams, acquire some vehicles, and pick up supplies. Two other teams have family in the area, and will travel in order to see if anyone is still alive. The crew left on the ship will be either on guard duty under LT Burk's supervision, or inspecting and cleaning under XO Slattery's watchful eyes; we have to be ready for our next mission. The RIBs are departing now with the nine teams over the next hour. Some of LT Green's sailors will be guarding the RIBs and provide a safe LZ while we are on shore. Anything else you would like to know, Captain – I mean, Doctor?" Tom smirked.

"No, that's all Captain. Dismissed," Rachel replied straight-faced, returning her attention back to her tea.

Tom rolled his eyes, shook his head, executed a perfect about-face, and started to leave the wardroom. Just as he was about to exit, he pivoted around to face Rachel.

"Let me know when you're ready to go, Doctor – I'm headed to remind the leaving crews about some essentials they need to pick up – and to make you a shirt that says CAPT Doctor Scott," Tom winked.

Rachel scoffed and nodded as she watched Tom leave. She drank the rest of her tea, thinking about not only what she needed to accomplish before embarking on the excursion, but also the _Nathan James'_ commanding officer's fine eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Alpha Team slowly made their way to campus. The RIB had dropped them off about two miles from their destination; the rest had to be done on foot due to all of the random vehicles.

Rachel cautiously made her way down the road in the middle of the sailors. Tom -always the officer and a gentleman – walked in front of her, M4A-1 out in front of him at the ready. LT Green led the group with ENS Mason while two other POs she had never had the pleasure of meeting brought up the rear. Everyone, including the doctor, had their Kevlar on: Tom wasn't taking chances. So far Alpha Team hadn't encountered any living soul, just discarded trash, haphazardly parked vehicles, downed power lines, and red X'es. Lots of them: on apartment complex doors, cars, stores, and office high rises. After all of the living people they had encountered in Baltimore, Rachel wasn't sure the crew thought 80% of the world had died. But walking through town that once had a population of 350,000 at 1300 on a Friday afternoon, Rachel knew it would hit home quickly to those out on missions.

Danny and Tom all of sudden crouched low to the ground in front of her, and both held up their right hands in a fist over their shoulders for everyone to see. The group kneeled as they waited on baited breath for whatever it was the men spotted to make an appearance. Danny looked at Tom, and both men nodded. Tom turned and quietly sidled up to Rachel.

"Doctor, come with me," Tom whispered as he also motioned for ENS Mason and a PO to do the same, leaving LT Green with the other PO. Tom and the three of them slowly crept down a perpendicular side street, out of view of the other two sailors.

"What was that, Captain?" Rachel whispered as they made it to the next parallel main fare.

"LT Green and I both spotted two guards up in a third story apartment building," Tom stated as they kept jogging. "He and PO Smith are going to see if they can go through the area. PO Jones and I will come at them from the other direction. ENS Mason, you are going to stay right here with Doctor Scott," Tom slowed to a stop, pointing to a shop door. If you hear two clicks over your ear buds, you get the heck out of Dodge, and you get back to the RIB."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Doctor?"

Rachel stared at Tom.

"Doctor, you have to stay here – we won't place your life in any more danger than need be. This isn't necessary – we don't know what's going on over there."

Begrudgingly, Rachel nodded. "Yes, Captain."

"Now, Ensign – stay out of sight."

"Yes, sir."

"We'll be back shortly," Tom quietly called as he winked at Rachel and took off down the street at a brisk trot, M4 in front of him, PO Jones at his flank. Both men disappeared from view as they turned the corner. Rachel sighed.

"Well, ma'am. You'd better sit back. We may be here a while," ENS Mason said as he defensively positioned himself. Rachel sat down against the brick building, feeling the Kevlar dig into her stomach and underarms.

"Do you always follow orders?"

"Yes, ma'am," ENS Mason responded vehemently. "The system wouldn't work if there wasn't any structure. Plus Captain Chandler knows what he's doing."

"Hmmm," Rachel pondered his answer. "Even when there's not a Navy anymore?"

"Ma'am, we still have a mission to complete. We are still a part of the United States Navy, and we will follow Captain Chandler's orders until they are not upholding the Constitution. We'll complete the mission and pick up the pieces once what's left of humanity is restored, no matter what the price. I joined the Navy to serve and protect, and that's what we need now more than ever. It seems like everybody has reverted back to a caveman society – we need good men and women to stand up and do something right. I believe that's what Captain Chandler is here for, ma'am."

Rachel nodded her head at the young man's response, contemplating his words. _I wish I had his outlook – the world isn't so black and white anymore. It's back to survival of the fittest. But Mason does have a point – we do need courageous people like Tom._ Rachel continued to sit and think as she heard Tom and Danny talk over the radio in her ear.

 _"Proceed forward, LT – Jones and I have the guards in our sights if they attack."_

 _"Aye, aye, sir."_

Rachel heard heavy breathing as the men slowly made their way forward.

 _"Halt! Who goes there?"_

 _"LT – we still have your back – see what you can find out. "It's a hot one today" is your tell if something's wrong."_

Rachel waited anxiously as she heard Danny start to talk to the men.

 _"We're looking for some food," Danny called._

 _"You're not military?"_

 _Danny took the lead, "No, we found this tactical gear a few weeks back and have been wearing it since. My brother here doesn't really even know how to shoot – he just thinks he looks great. So why the hold-up? I'm guessing you guys aren't sick? Do you have any food to help us out? We have to get back to our wives and kids."_

 _"Where you stayin'?"_

 _"Can't tell you that – you may want to steal it from us."_

Rachel tapped her foot nervously. _Come on Tom, get them out of there! Something doesn't feel right._

 _"You sure you don't know how to fire those? We could use some good men – we're trying to stop some crazy foreigners from destroying the University. Sounds crazy, I know, but some scientists are there, and we're hoping for a cure. We thought you was them at first, because they's military, too."_

Rachel and Mason looked at each other nervously and quickly looked around, hoping to not see any unwanted faces.

 _"LT, tell them who you really are and get out of there! PO Jones-"_

Tom wasn't able to finish as gunfire erupted over the coms. Rachel stared at Mason as she took out her 9 mm Tom had told her to strap on before leaving the _James,_ and started to stand up and make her way towards the fire fight.

"Ma'am, we have strict orders to stay here-" ENS Mason called as he reached for her arm.

"And I don't have to follow orders, Ensign. I understand you have your mottos and sayings about bravery and taking one for the team, but I am not going to let men die while I "follow orders" and not do anything," Rachel said as she took off jogging.

ENS Mason groaned as he ran to catch up. "I am so getting extra duty if we make it out of this."

Rachel rounded the city block and immediately slipped into a door alcove, Mason at her rear. She could see Tom and Jones: Tom was located in an alcove just like hers, but his was located at the far end of the block across the street. Jones was hunkered down behind a trash truck that had crashed into a storefront down the block 50 yards from her position. Both men were taking fire from multiple shooters in the buildings above.

Rachel knew it would only be a matter of time before the unknown shooters noticed her and Mason. She looked back at Mason and he nodded at her.

"Stay here, ma'am," he whispered as he stealthily walked down the sidewalk towards Jones, opening fire on the shooters in the windows above. As Mason was unexpected, he quickly took out the men above Tom's position, allowing Jones to work his way around the trash truck, and yell, "GRENADE!" as he launched it into the window above his position, saving Tom from any more incoming fire.

Rachel covered her head instinctively as the explosion rocked the block. _I am so glad these walkie-talkies have decent ear protection, or my ears would be a mess right now._

Tom, Jones, and Mason all regrouped on this side of the trash truck; Tom did a double take and ground his teeth together as he noticed Mason for the first time.

"I gave you orders to-"

"Yes, I know, sir, but-"

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

Mason turned and pointed to Rachel hiding behind the brick wall. Rachel waved back, shrugging her shoulders. Tom jerkily motioned for her to come forward, and Rachel ran down the sidewalk to catch up to the men. _Finally, back with the team_ , Rachel thought.

"Ensign, Petty Officer – go help out the Lieutenant and Petty Officer, and our new friends. I'll be right behind you."

"Aye, aye, sir." Mason and Jones hurried off to help out, not wanting to be around for the quarrel.

"Before you say anything-"

"No, I need to provide cover for me men. We will have this discussion later. Get under that trash truck."

"No! I am a grown woman who knows how to fire a weapon, thanks to your highly qualified crew. I do not need to be handled with kid gloves! Please, let me help."

"Doctor. Rachel, please. I promise to have this discussion with you later. But please trust me on this – get under the truck," Tom implored, placing his arm on Rachel's shoulder.

Rachel looked into his eyes, seeing something different than the captain she had known over the past year, and nodded her head in consent.

"If you don't see Navy issue boots walking up to the truck, shoot 'em," Tom offhandedly mentioned as she got down onto the ground. "See ya in a few Doctor – try not to shoot us when we come back!" Rachel shook her head. _Why am I always so frustrated around that man?_ She crawled under the truck making sure to survey all sides for intruders while the gun battle raged on around the corner. Rachel studied her surroundings, taking into account all of the cracks in the sidewalk, and all of the weeds that had started to grow. Luckily the trash had all rotted a while ago, so it didn't stink too badly from her prone position.

The automatic fire lasted for a while longer, but it eventually stopped. Rachel heard a click over the coms and braced herself for what was coming.

"Coming your way, Doctor… you can slide out." Rachel breathed a sigh of relief as she heard Tom's unwavering voice, and slid out on her stomach from underneath the truck, holstering her weapon as she stood. She and Tom stood there looking the other over to make sure the other was fine. Both satisfied with their perusal, they rounded the corner to head back to the other men. Rachel took in the sight before her: both of the men who had talked to Green and Smith earlier were on the ground not moving. _They must have fallen out of the windows._ Smith had been hurt, and was sitting down on the sidewalk. Danny talked to Smith as he wrapped up the Petty Officer's arm.

"Thank you, sir. It's just a through-and-through – I'll be fine," Smith said.

Mason and Jones nodded at the Captain as they formed a very lose perimeter around Green and Smith.

"Gentlemen, we need to keep moving forward – there will be reinforcements for both sides coming very soon – and I do not want to stay and see how soon back-up arrives. Let's head out. Smith, are you fine to continue? Or do you need to head back to the _James_?" Tom asked.

"Fit as a fiddle, sir," Smith smartly replied, standing to his feet.

"Good, sailor. You're now directly behind Doctor Scott." Smith nodded and lifted his M4, ready to go.

"Fall in - let's go," Tom called as he took up point and jogged down the street toward the University. "Mama Bird, this is Alpha Team, do you copy?"

 _"Alpha Team, this is Mama bird, we read you. What is your status?"_

"We just ran into a party, but we are fine. Continuing on mission. Please tell Team Sea Horse that our extraction needs to be moved to LZ Bravo. Alpha Team out."

 _"We read you, Alpha Team. LZ moved from Alpha to Bravo. Mama bird out."_

"I'm sure some of the other teams heard our distress – let's hope the _James_ can warn everyone to stay away, and tell them we're fine," Tom called as they continued to make their way through the city towards campus.


	3. Chapter 3

"Ensign – can you fix the in-house intercom and make an announcement?" Tom asked as the six walked into the University's CDC office.

"Captain, it looks as if there have been people here recently," Green called, looking over the reception office.

Tom looked around, taking in the cleaner aspects of the office: upright plants, chairs, and tables, and no X on the door.

"I'll see what I can do, sir," Mason called as he slid into the receptionist chair, rolling it over to the phone.

Rachel wandered around the office, taking it in.

"Doctor, please stay away from the window," PO Smith cautioned as Rachel looked outside to the quad. "I don't want you to end up like me," he said as he motioned down to his blood-soaked bandage.

"Would you like me to look at it, Petty Officer? I'm sorry, I don't know you're first name."

"It's Matthew, ma'am, and no, I'm fine. I've got to keep watch to make sure no surprises come through the front doors."

Rachel frowned as Matthew continued to sweep the outside. "Well, if it starts to hurt too much, please let me know, Matthew…"

"Thank you, ma'am," Petty Officer Matthew Smith grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Petty Officer Smith – eyes on your mission," Tom called out.

Rachel turned as the captain approached, eyebrows rising and mouth open, ready with a retort.

"With me, Doctor – let's find some supplies, and maybe some helpers for you," Tom said before Rachel could get a word in, leading her to steps that led to the labs.

"Smith, Jones – you stay here and let us know if something ugly comes up. Mason, you're tackling the intercom – you have what you're supposed to say when you've fixed it," Mason nodded. "Green, you're with the doctor and myself. Remember everybody, if you can't talk, 2 clicks for a bad situation. Keep your heads on a swivel. We will be back in 30 mics." Tom, Rachel, and Danny made their way down the stairs, the men ready for the unknown with flashlights and weapons drawn.

When the three entered the first lab, Tom and Rachel immediately started placing essentials in the duffle bags Alpha Team had brought along. Tom worked along side her, reading his assigned list and placing items in the bags as Green stood guard by the door.

"Why did you talk to him like that?"

"Talk to whom?" Tom replied, eying the bottles in his hand before placing them in his duffle.

"You know exactly whom I mean, Captain," Rachel scolded, keeping her eyes on the shelves in front of her. Tom reached over in front of her, to cover him as he leaned close, gazing at her.

"I promise we'll talk later, but now is not the time," Tom whispered. "Please," he asked. Rachel nodded and Tom straightened, the captain façade sliding back into place. Rachel stepped around to the next cabinet.

 _**"Attention CDC employees, my name is Will Mason. My party and I mean you no harm; we come in peace. My friend – they're a paleomicrobiologist – has something and we need your help. Please make your way to the receptionist's desk."_ ** Mason's voice called out all through the building.

"Why did he not say my name? Or mention that we had a cure?"

"Then if somebody else is listening, they won't know you're a girl, and won't try to kidnap or kill you. And then they wouldn't try to just kill all of us if they don't like that we have a cure. Also, we can make a getaway if something does transpire."

"Oh," Rachel responded as she momentarily stopped looking for stock.

"And this way, since you're wearing mostly Navy clothing, you won't necessarily be taken as the doctor."

"Thanks, I guess," Rachel replied as she continued to acquire the tools needed to mass-produce the cure.

"We take our job seriously to protect you – please understand that, Doctor Scott. You were our mission for this cruise, and it's not over yet," Tom responded.

Rachel swallowed, still amazed at every sailor's willingness to sacrifice themselves for the mission. For her.

The captain and doctor worked for another fifteen minutes, diligently searching through every cabinet in the lab, filling all six of the duffles.

"Who's carrying all of this?" Rachel asked, barely able to lift one.

"We've got it, Doctor," Danny replied as he walked over, slung one onto each wide shoulder, and gripped the third one in his left hand, leaving his trigger hand empty for surprises. Tom came over and repeated the process, not wincing as all of the weight settled onto his broad shoulders. Rachel just looked on in disbelief as the men moved just as steady with the extra 200+ pounds.

"Maybe I should take Tex up on dumbbell training the next time I head to the gym," Rachel mumbled to herself as they made their way back up to the first floor. Tom chuckled under his breath from below her on the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

Since none of the three had heard two taps over the comms, Tom, Danny, and Rachel weren't too concerned about walking into the front atrium. However, precautions were taken: both men took off their bags and placed them just out of sight of the front. Green entered first.

"Situation Oscar Kilo, Captain," Green called out.

Rachel looked up at Tom with a questioning look on her face. "O.K.," Tom supplied. Rachel nodded, and stepped out with Tom.

Tom took in the scene before him, seeing the four new faces in front of him.

"Sit rep, Ensign."

"Captain, please meet two of the doctors that worked here, Doctors Amar and Tracie Sanna. And this is their teenage daughter, Virginia. Also, this is Jordan Parsons – she's a lab tech here at the CDC," Mason introduced, "They've been holed up here for a few weeks now researching a cure."

Tom nodded to the four new faces, settling on Amar, motioning for him to speak.

"We had no place to go once the men forced us to retreat from our residence and killed some of our friends. We've been trying to get in contact with the government or other CDCs or the WHO for help, but we've been unsuccessful," Amar provided.

"These men killed our friends because they would not help them try to find a cure – we knew that they weren't the 'good' guys – if anybody is that now a days," Tracie added. "We barely made it out in time, and this was the only place we knew to hide. The men – I think they're Russians – have been here multiple times to try and find us, but they've been unsuccessful."

"Where did you hide?" Tom inquired.

"The three of us hid with the dead bodies in the freezer in haz mat suits – the Russians wouldn't chance going in there. Where did you hide Jordan?"

"Umm, different places," Jordan nervously answered, eyes dancing around the room, unable to stay in one place.

"Jordan, are you okay?" Tom inquired.

Jordan fidgeted and finally broke down. "I'm sorry, sir, they said that they'd kill him if I didn't cooperate."

"Jordan…" Tom stepped towards her, the hair on his neck starting to stick up.

"They knew that you'd be on your way here Captain Chandler and Dr. Scott. They told me to bring the Sannas here, and make sure no one took any of the supplies. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" cried Jordan, starting to shake.

"Who did you contact, Jordan? Who's coming?" Tom asked, steel in his voice. He took in Jones and Smith watching the front windows. All was calm.

"Some creepy man named Rushkove? I don't know," Jordan said, almost breaking down. "I'm really sorry." The sailors and Rachel shared ominous glances. Rushkov and his crew had survived.

"Would you like to help out us out?"

"Yes, sir, but they'll kill him!"

"We will do our best to retrieve whomever he is. Now, tell me everything: when will they be here? Where will the Russians be entering? Anything that may help us."

Tom motioned for Green and Mason to grab the duffles and bring them into the atrium, in sight of everyone.

"He said that once I gave them the okay, it would take about fifteen minutes, but that they'd come in through the lab downstairs."

Jones and Smith immediately took up defensive positions by the stairs.

"When did you contact them, Jordan?"

Jordan started to hyperventilate as everything came into focus.

"Breathe, Jordan. Look me in the eye. In for four, out for four. There you go," Rachel coaxed. "Come on, you can do this. You were brave enough that you let us know beforehand. That's a good girl."

"Right when I saw you, Captain. I wasn't sure if it was until both of you walked up the stairs."

Tom looked at his watch and guessed they had eight minutes, ten if they were lucky. "Is there any other way out of the building besides the front or the basement? They'll have those covered," Tom glanced over to the Sannas.

"Well, this building is connected via a breezeway to the cancer research building next door. And that one's connected to the engineering building… We'll have to walk up three flights of stairs though." Dr. Sanna pointed to another set of stairs heading up.

"That'll do," Tom replied, grabbing two duffles to sling over his back. "Green, Mason, Jones – grab a duffle. Green, grab the extra."

"Sir, I can carry a duffle," Smith protested. "I'm shot, not an invalid. Sir."

Tom relented with a nod. "Okay, Petty Officer.

"Let's move out. Hustle, but be quiet!"

Danny, aided by the Sannas, took point heading up the stairs, followed closely by Rachel and Tom. Jordan and Mason came next and the Petty Officers brought up the rear, expecting the Russians at any moment.

Just as the team hurriedly walked through the first breezeway into the cancer research center, loud yelling in Russian could be heard.

"Where were you supposed to keep us?" Tom whispered.

"The atrium."

Tom nodded, keeping his eyes peeled. Even with all of the civilians present, Alpha Team quickly and quietly made it across the cancer research building and into the engineering building; everybody knew that their lives depended on the quietness of their actions.

Eventually the group made it to the end of the engineering building.

"Mama Bird, this is Alpha Team, over," Tom quietly whispered into his comm. Everybody on comms listened with bated breath as only static filled their ears.

"Mama Bird, this is Alpha Team, over," Tom repeated with no reply from the _James_.

"Sir, there must be interference from all of the equipment in the engineering, cancer, and CDC buildings – we traveled farther from the _Nathan James_ while escaping the Russians," Mason spoke up.

Tom grimly nodded, giving up contacting the ship for the moment.

"Okay. We're heading downstairs and out. We will find the first transportation and travel to LZ Bravo. If we get separated, you keep heading to the rendezvous. Doctors, Virgina, and Jordan, you have to stay with one of us at all times. Does everybody understand?" Tom looked around at everyone as they assented, and ended his scan with his eye on Rachel. She nodded her head in acceptance. "Let's go," Tom ordered.

Alpha Team descended quickly and quietly down to the ground floor of the engineering building, far away from the Russians.

"Eyes peeled, people," Tom whispered as his team made their way across campus, looking for transportation.

The first vehicle that the team came upon that was not wrecked was a nondescript two-door pick-up truck. Danny was able to make quick work of hotwiring it and was happy to see when it started that it had gas.

"LT – you're driving. Petty Officer Smith – in the passenger seat.

"Virginia, you'll sit between them. Drs… Jordan… it's been a pleasure. Get in the bed and lay down. Stay that way until Lieutenant Green Petty Officer Smith tell you it's okay. Smith, shoot at anything that you deem necessary." Tom placed his two packs, along with Danny's and Smith's in the bed.

"But, sir, shouldn't Dr. Scott be going?" Smith asked, taken aback.

"I need someone to provide support should they come under fire. That's you, sailor."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Tom tapped the side of the truck as Danny pulled out of the lot, driving quickly back to the docks.

"Six down, four to go. Let's head the same way they're heading."

Tom took point, with Rachel behind him; Jones and Mason brought up the rear. The quartet quickly made their way across campus, searching for cars to borrow.

"Um, sir?" Mason called half-heartedly.

"Yes, Ensign?"

"I found us a car…" Mason gestured at the two door SMART car parked in an alley alongside the Union Building.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Tom shook his head. "Well, beggars can't be choosers.

"How are your hot wiring skills, Ensign?"

"Good sir – Lieutenant Green taught me exactly what to do in preparation for this mission."

"Work your magic, son," Tom replied as he and Jones took up defensive positions around the car, Rachel positioned next to Mason.

Mason walked up to the car, surprised to see that it was unlocked. _The poor unsuspecting soul had probably died around here, and thought they could get out real quick until they felt better_ , thought Mason.

"Sir, the keys are here!" Mason called.

"That's great," Tom called, still looking back in the direction they had just come from.

"Pop the trunk."

The "trunk" popped with a squeak. Tom shook his head and shut the door.

"Ensign, you're driving. Jones, you're driving point. You guys will have to carry the remaining duffles in your laps. Sorry, sailors."

"Shouldn't…?" Mason and Jones started, and looked at each other. However, both knew that the captain would not leave them out here by themselves, and he definitely wouldn't allow himself to be separated from the doctor. Both men knew that their captain took the doctor's safety personally and that he wouldn't let her out of his sight on missions.

Both Mason and Jones entered the vehicle, the heavy duffles situated on their laps.

"We'll be right behind you, sailors. Fair winds and following seas," Tom tapped the roof as they drove off, starting into a jog down the street.

"Captain, if you wanted to get me all alone, all you had to do was ask," Rachel goaded as they continued to jog their way down the road.

Tom cracked a smile as he kept his head on a swivel. "I'll have to remember that for future reference."

Rachel grinned as the two made their way side by side through the rest of campus, eyes open for Russians and empty vehicles.

Sometime later Tom pulled up short, glancing to the side of the nearest building. A motorcycle had been semi-hidden behind some overgrowth.

"Ever been on a bike, Doctor?" Tom smirked.

"A bike-bike, yes. A motorcycle? No." Rachel cringed. "Are you kidding me?" she asked as she scrutinized the bike.

"This isn't a just a bike, Doctor – it's a Harley Davidson Iron 883 – an amazing motorcycle, if I do say so myself. And no, I'm not kidding. It'll just be for a little bit, I promise. We'll be back on the ship in no time." Tom persuaded as he jogged over to the motorcycle and swung his leg over the bike.

"But there's no seat… or key."

"Well, you'll just have to hold on tight, Doc," Tom grinned, "And once again, we're in luck – key's in the ignition," Tom's eyes gleamed as they inspected the bike.

"The only difference between men and boys is the price of their toys," Rachel mumbled under her breath as she slowly walked up to the bike.

"Please tell me that you have a biker's drivers license," Rachel queried.

"Yes, ma'am – I used to go out all the time. Now come on, Doctor – we're going to have Russians on us soon. Our luck's bound to give out. This baby here will get us home in no time."

"Well, here goes nothing," Rachel remarked as she gripped his shoulder to give her leverage as she swung onto the bike behind him.

"Now, place your boots right there," Tom pointed down to the pegs, "and wrap your arms around me - hold on tight underneath my Kevlar. When we turn, lean into the turn with me, okay?"

Tom turned his head slightly, looking for a reply, making Rachel realize how close they actually were. Rachel nodded her head and swallowed nervously. Even with both of their Kevlar pieces separating them, they were squeezed together pretty tight. This was the closest she'd been to another human being in a long time.

"Yes. I'll just be glad when we're off of this rock."

Tom grinned at her as he brought the bike to life, and then Rachel felt him turn stiffen, guiding the bike to the road, constantly on alert. Tom positioned his M4 across his stomach for easy access, and they made their way off of campus.

"Keep your head on my back, and tap me if you see something fishy. Do not let go for any reason," Tom yelled as they took off towards the _Nathan James_.

Rachel began to relax as Tom guided the bike through the desolate streets of downtown Tampa. She realized quickly that Tom was not heading directly to the _James_ , but taking a very roundabout trail. Rachel shook her head – always leading the enemy away, even when riding on a motorcycle. She kept an eye out for any suspicious activity, but also enjoyed her face in the wind, wrapped around Tom.

Tom felt Rachel slowly become more and more relaxed as they rode, smiling to himself. _Who wouldn't like a motorcycle ride when there's no threat from other crazy drivers (Russians excluded)? There's just something liberating about being on a bike._

Eventually the duo reached LZ Bravo and the RIBs. Tom knocked out the kickstand then turned slightly to help Rachel from the bike. As soon as she had both feet on the ground, Rachel almost fell.

"Woah, there, Doctor – steady yourself," Tom chided as he offered an arm for her to grip as he slowly dismounted. "Are you okay?"

"Yes – just a little miscombobulated."

"That's normal for your first time – it'll be better the next time," Tom winked. "Now, let's see who hasn't made it back to the nest."

"Petty Officer Ackerman, sit rep on LT Green and ENS Mason - have both returned yet?" Tom called, walking towards the nearest sailor.

"Sir! Both LT Green and ENS Mason, along with their cargos, have already headed back to the _James_. The RIBs just left fifteen minutes ago. They should be returning in," the Petty Officer looked at his watch, "- thirty mics, sir. Sorry, sir – I would've held them if I had known."

"Not a problem Petty Officer – just make sure everyone's eyes are ready for incoming hostiles."

"Aye, aye, sir!" the Petty Officer saluted smartly and returned to his duty, making sure the other sailors were aware of the situation.

Tom and Rachel quietly stood facing the bay, taking in the gulls' screeches and blue water for some time. Both enjoyed the other's company, and didn't feel the need to fill the silence with chatter.

Eventually the captain pressed his transponder in, "Mama Bird, this is Alpha Team Leader, over."

 _"Alpha Team Leader, this is Mama Bird. It is good to hear your voice, sir."_

"Ditto, Mama Bird. It's good to be heard. We're waiting on Percy and Tyson."

 _"Copy that."_ The radio went silent as Tom depressed the call button.

"Percy and Tyson?" Rachel asked as she and Tom slowly walked towards the water side by side.

"The two RIBs' code names. Percy and Tyson are sons of Poseidon in the Percy Jackson novels. Sam named them a few years back when I was the XO, and the names have stuck. Wow, he must have been 7 or 8," Tom mused, "The crew – in case you haven't figured it out – is pretty young – and during that cruise everything and everybody had a fictional nickname that dealt with water. Some of those personnel are on the _James_ now, so the names have stuck," Tom chuckled, and shook his head, remembering different times.

"And what was yours, Captain?"

"Umm… I plead the fifth." Tom continued walking down towards the end of the dock where the RIBs would dock, away from his crew.

"Don't you need to make sure everything's okay?" Rachel motioned to the sailors.

"Doctor, these fine men and women have been under my command for just about year – much longer than most cruises. I've come to know and trust their instincts. Most would have made the next rate by now. They don't need a micromanager – they need somebody who trusts them – and I do.

Tom smirked, "Plus, who's going to be your bodyguard?"

Rachel huffed, "I do not need a bodyguard.

"So, what are we going to do with the motorcycle?"

Tom noticed the abrupt subject change but didn't call her on it. "Well, as much as I would like to take her back, it's obviously not something made for a destroyer, or useful to our mission, much as it pains me to say. She'll have to stay here. Who knows? Maybe we'll have the pleasure to use her again in the near future."

"I hope so, Captain – I enjoyed it immensely. Now, about-"Rachel stopped from her line of inquiry as she spotted the RIBs off in the distance coming in hot.

"Team Sea Horse, please fall back to Percy & Tyson," Tom called out over his radio.

Out of the corner of Rachel's eye she could see the sailors quickly but meticulously make their way to her and Tom's position by the RIBs, all moving as a fluid machine. Rachel turned her head all the way around and marveled how everyone knew to retreat back to the RIBs and not leave their backs exposed.

"Permission, to come aboard, Petty Officer?" Tom asked as the vessels pulled up beside the dock.

"Permission granted, sir."

Tom saluted and stepped down into the gently rocking boat. Just as Rachel was about to step down behind Tom, he turned around and stuck out his hand. She gratefully took it, stepping down gingerly into the boat, still not steady on her feet on the water.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Not a problem, Doctor," Tom replied, smiling.

"Let's go home, sailors," the captain ordered, sending both crews back to the _James_. It wasn't for another few minutes that Rachel realized that the captain just then gently released her hand.


	5. Chapter 5

"Attention on deck!" a voice called as Tom walked through the door.

"As you were," Tom called, making his way over to his XO, CDR Slattery.

"Captain."

"Mike," Tom nodded. "How are the rest of the teams? Were we able to let you know about the change in the LZ?"

"Affirmative. All have checked in. Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, and Golf have only found a handful of survivors and have inoculated them. Nobody has asked to come back to the ship, though. I showered this morning – not sure why nobody wants to come," Mike deadpanned.

"Well at least they were able to find a few survivors. What time are Tyson and Percy heading back to pick them up?"

"2000 HRS, sir. They'll have to make a few trips. All six teams will head out again tomorrow to look for more supplies and to innoculate the general population."

"Any radio transmissions with Hotel or India?"

"Negative, Captain. We knew that they would be out of range after a while, and we've seen no flares. Hopefully all is well. They were told to be back in 84 hours, which is in…. 72 hours."

"Wanted to let you know that we were able to find a few people to help us out," Tom said, and proceeded to fill Mike in on the four new inhabitants on the _James._ "Oh and Mike? Thanks for holding down the fort while I was gone."

"Not a problem, Captain. Hard to believe that if all had not gone to hell in a hand basket I'd be in your shoes, and you'd be a pencil-pusher at the Pentagon."

"I know, Mike. Crazy."

"Captain, why don't you go hit the rack. I'll let you know when Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, and Golf have returned."

"Wilco," Tom replied as he stepped of the bridge, and walked down the passageway to the stern, intent on making a slight detour before heading to his quarters. _I've got to go check on our newest passengers_ , Tom kept telling himself. _Yeah, right. Who am I kidding?_ He grinned.


	6. Chapter 6

Loud banging woke Tom from his light sleeping a few hours later and he instantly became aware.

"Enter!" Tom called as he sat up and walked into his stateroom. A Petty Officer opened the door and quickly poked his head in.

"Sorry to wake you, sir, but the XO needs you on the bridge right away, sir."

"Thank you – tell him I'll be right there," Tom called as the sailor closed the door, allowing Tom to throw on his NWU top and button up. The captain quickly made his way to the bridge.

"Captain on the bridge!"

"What's the problem, Commander?" Tom asked, crossing his arms as he walked up to Mike.

"All teams except Delta have been recovered. They were supposed to have been at LZ Charlie by 2000, and that was 60 mics ago. We just spotted a green flare over their quadrant," Mike remarked, adding, "Green is bad now, so hopefully they remembered that tidbit."

"Where?" A petty officer with binos pointed the vicinity to Tom in the darkening sky where the distress signal came from. Tom's jaw tightened as he surveyed the skyline; Delta Team had been close to the University.

"Get the Knighthawk ready, now. The pilots should already be on standby. Have LT Green and HM Rios meet me on the flight deck in tactical gear ASAP."

Sailors immediately complied with his orders, calling up the pilots and LT Green.

"Cap-"

"I'm going, Mike – those men and women are my responsibility."

"I was just going to say that HM Rios can't go. He's been in the head all day throwing up."

Tom sighed, lips pursed.

"Ariel'll be fine, Tom – she can handle herself – we've all seen to her training," Mike leaned in toward Tom, grinning.

"She's not going to like that call sign, Mike," Tom said under his breath for only Slattery to hear. Mike smirked.

Tom turned to the closest PO, "Call Doctor Scott – have her meet the lieutenant and myself on the flight deck in her Kevlar & her med bag pack, please." Tom hustled off the bridge into the passageway, practically sprinting to the flight deck at the stern of the destroyer. Sailors backed against bulkheads as calls of, "Make way for the Captain!" echoed throughout the ship.

By the time Tom arrived to the hatch leading out to the helo deck, he had ditched his button-up and had started attaching his vest. Grabbing his helmet, two comm units, and two pairs of NVGs, he quickly attached everything to himself. Last, he picked up extra clips for his M4 and a few other weapons to round out his armament. Attaching his M4 to his vest, he quickly made his way over to the pilot inside the Knighthawk performing pre-checks.

Tom leaned into the bird and over the sound of the rotating blades yelled, "Are we ready to leave, Lieutenant Commander Collingwood?"

"Yes, sir!" Collingwood called back from the front seat.

Tom leaned back out of the Knighthawk and stood hands on hips, waiting for his two other passengers. Seconds ticked by and Tom grew more agitated. _People could be hurt or worse… Danny! Rachel! Come on!_

Just then the hatch flew open revealing Rachel struggling to attach her Kevlar one-handed with her med bag in the other hand - helmet wavering precariously on her head – with Danny right behind her all geared up. Both scurried into the Knighthawk and strapped down as Tom jumped in behind them, slamming and latched the door.

"All you, Lieutenant Commander!" Tom called as the bird slowly took flight above the deck, propeller wind battering everything in sight. Tom grabbed the helo's headphones, handing both Rachel and Danny a pair. As they cleared the ship, LTCDR Collingwood immediately banked towards shore, going in fast and low over the water. Tom filled Rachel, Danny, LTCDR Collingwood, and his copilot in on the severity of the situation.

"Jim – you have the coordinates, correct?"

"Yes, Captain. We will be there in 10 mics on this course."

"Okay, here's the game plan: LTCDR Collingwood will circle the area where the flare was spotted. It's near where we were earlier. Hopefully by the time we arrive we'll have RC with Delta Team. If not, hopefully we can figure out what's going on so we're not heading in blind. Lieutenant – get ready – we may need to repel if we can't set the bird down."

Danny nodded, checking over his knives, ammunition, M4, and .45.

Tom looked over to Rachel and saw that she was still trying to correctly attach her vest. He reached over and gently knocked her hands away, shaking his head ruefully. "I've got it, Doc." Rachel blushed as Tom checked her over, tightening and loosening straps to make sure the Kevlar fit as snug as possible. Once satisfied with the vest, his confident hands moved to her helmet, where he attached her NVGs and made sure everything fit correctly. Tom reached over to her helmet and switched her channel so that she wasn't hearing the chatter of the pilots anymore. He then switched his as well.

"Can you hear me, Doctor?" Tom asked, looking right at her. She nodded, seeing his lips move, but only hearing him through the headphones.

"Good. You and I are the only ones on this channel. I hope you were able to settle our new friends in the ship? And that you were able to relax a little bit after I talked to you earlier?" Rachel nodded.

"Great. I don't know what we're going to be throwing ourselves into, so please, I need you to follow my directions. They're not orders – I can't technically order you around – you're not one of my subordinates. But just know… everything I tell you is in your best interest. I will not knowingly place you in danger. Okay?"

Rachel nodded. "Yes, Captain. I understand, and I will. Not sure why we have to have this chat every time we go out…"

"We'll get to that, I promise. Just realize that my feelings for you aren't just because you're our mission. That's all I'm saying for now." Rachel's breath caught. _He actually likes me? But his deceased wife?! His kids?! It's basically the end of the world, and he's… well, he's human. And an upstanding, honest, good, man. And we can't forget cute, can we, Scott? Nope, can't forget about that._ Rachel smiled. _Mission, Rachel. There could be people dying._ Rachel instantly sobered.

"Oh, and doctor," Tom grinned, "You may have to tandem rappel with me out of the helicopter, so please put this harness on." Tom winked as he passed one over to Rachel, who groaned. Rachel watched Tom laugh as he switched their channels back to confer with Danny and the helicopter crew. The rest of the trip was filled with more planning and soon enough they were in the vicinity of the ejected flare.

"Look! There, Captain!" yelled Collingwood, pointing towards Delta Team waving their arms on the roof of an apartment building.

"Lieutenant, try to pick them up on comms," Tom ordered as he readied his equipment. "Jim, set us down on that building."

"No can do, Captain – we'll collapse the roof. I can get you a few feet above the roof, but that's as close as I'll go. You'll have to jump."

"Okay, Jim. Circle around while we find out what's going on. Doctor, Green, you're with me. Get ready to jump. Ensign Ryers, man the 50 cal back here while we're on the ground."

"Aye, aye, sir," Ryers called, unbuckling his harness. He made his way to the side of the helicopter next to Rachel, and attached himself to the bird. _Well at least he's not falling out._ Rachel thought. _That's all we'd need._

"Any luck with the comms, Green?"

"No, sir."

"Ready, Doctor?"

Rachel nodded as the Knighthawk started her descent to the roof, stopping to hover a few feet off. She grabbed her pack full of supplies and swung it onto her back, steeling herself for the jump.

Receiving the go sign from Collingwood, Tom opened the sliding door. Green instantly jumped down and landed light on his feet, swiftly moving forward and down into a crouch, M4 raised. Tom proceeded to do the same, crouching to the other side of Green. As soon as he performed a cursory scan, he looked back to give Rachel a motion to come on out.

 _Here goes nothing_ , Rachel thought as she jumped from the helo. Right as she went to jump, popping sounds pinged all around her, and a loud and fast clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk could be heard, even through her ear pro. She didn't land as gracefully as Tom or Danny, but she still kept her feet under her as blasts of air whizzed by her arms and head. Rachel didn't think anything of it, and hurried forward to kneel in between the two men in front of her. The helicopter took off, backwash blowing debris every which direction. Their hearing soon returned, and the three could hear the automatic fire the helicopter was taking and returning. Tom scanned the roof. LT Granderson's team was located on the southeast corner, and the three quickly made their way over, dodging bullets as they went.

"Sit rep, Lieutenant," Tom called as he took in the sight, pulling Rachel down behind him. Rachel immediately went to work helping the sailors, doing her best to stay out of harm's way.

"Five dead, four wounded, one fine, one MIA, sir," Alisha stated, face devoid of feeling. Tom and Danny took a deep breath. Tom counted the sailors, hoping that Alisha had miscounted, but all was just as she stated. Danny moved to the wall of the roof, slinging his M4 onto the rail, taking aim and firing at the men on the other roof.

"I'm sorry, sir -"Alisha started.

"Not now, Lieutenant," Tom reprimanded. "Save your strength; we'll talk when we're not under fire."

"Pegasus, have you been able to locate the hostile fire?" Tom asked as he made his way to the far end of the group, taking up position and firing just as Danny was.

 _"Affirmative, Prince. Coming around now,"_ Collingwood replied as the Knighthawk's 50 cal could be seen blazing away, taking out the hostiles on the opposing rooftop. Alisha's attachment of sailors cheered as the MH-60S flew by again, finishing up its work.

"Pegasus, please hover as close as you can to the roof – we need to evac everyone – and most of the team is wounded," Tom ordered, making his way over to Rachel.

"How does everyone look, Doctor?" Rachel walked towards him.

"I think most of them should make it… not sure about one or two. I'll know better once we return to the _James_ and we get them to sickbay." Rachel rubbed her face. "I was able to stabilize them the best I could. Captain, it looks like they came across landmines." Tom did a double take, not sure he heard correctly.

"Excuse me?"

"It's their legs that are torn up, and some of their arms… I remember Mogadishu – I saw cases like this while there."

Tom wasn't able to inquire anymore as Collingwood skillfully set the Knighthawk one foot off of the roof. The wounded were quickly and efficiently loaded into the bird by Danny, Rachel and the other unwounded sailor. Tom diligently stood guard, waiting for the next threat. Finally all of Echo Team had been loaded into the helo. Just Rachel and Tom remained on the rooftop. Tom motioned for her to get in, but Rachel shook her head. "I've got to get my bag!" Rachel called.

She ran back for her med bag by the wall as Tom continued to wait. Just as she grabbed her supplies, a cloud of smoke came hurdling toward her from a few buildings over.

"STINGER MISSILE INBOUND! GET OUT OF HERE PEGASUS!" Tom yelled, sprinting for Rachel's unmoving figure. The helicopter door slammed shut as Collingwood pushed the bird to its limits, dipping the Knighthawk on the other side of the building, trying to avoid the SAM.

Tom tackled Rachel to the ground just as the stinger made contact with the opposite side of the roof, trying to zero in on the heat signature. The sound of the explosion was so loud that the vibrations made her entire body shake. Debris rained down on Tom as he curled himself around Rachel, not daring to move.

 _"PRINCE! THIS IS PEGASUS! DO YOU COPY?"_

" _PRINCE! DO YOU COPY?"_

Tom slowly came to shaking his head. "Pegasus, this is Prince. Sit rep?" Tom called, wearily rolled off of Rachel and sat up. He immediately roamed his hands over her legs and arms checking for injuries.

 _"We're losing fuel, Prince. Not sure if we're going to be able to make it back for you and Ariel,"_ Collingwood replied.

"Leave – take your cargo back to Mama Bird."

 _"But-"_

"That's an order."

 _"Aye, aye, Prince,"_ Collingwood responded, angling his bird for the _James._

"We'll see you back there, Pegasus," Tom called, "Fair winds and following seas."

 _"Ditto, sir."_ Tom watched as the helicopter made its way back to the ship, sans the doctor and himself.

"Once again, all you have to do is ask if you want to get me alone, Captain," Rachel's voice rasped out as she slowly came to. Tom grinned at the sound of her voice, "How are you feeling, doc?"

"I feel like I was at the bottom of a scrum; wow can you tackle." Rachel slowly sat up and leaned against the wall. Tom maneuvered himself next to her, shoulder to shoulder. "Sorry, but I'm not sorry," he shook his head, trying to dislodge the cobwebs.

"Tom, you're bleeding!" Rachel exclaimed as she spotted the dark stain on his NWUs. She maneuvered to look at his calf, and slowly moved the fabric obscuring the wound. Tom did not make a sound as she moved the fabric aside. "Luckily it's just a scratch." Working quickly but diligently, Rachel had his leg as fixed as possible.

"Okay, Captain – you're good to go. You're lucky it didn't hit a vein or artery… it shouldn't bleed that much, but it will bleed. You're probably going to have a scar."

"Won't be the first one," Tom replied.

"You'll have to tell me about the other times when we're out of this mess," Rachel mentioned as she quickly placed her supplies in the backpack.

"Wilco, doc. Now, where's a Harley when you need one?" Tom mused, standing on his leg gingerly, and reached out a hand to Rachel to help her up. Rachel took the proffered hand, and stood.

"If you need any help, just let me know, Captain. We don't want your call sign to turn into Gimpy or Peg-Leg," Rachel snickered.

Tom chuckled as they shuffled over to the stairs.

"And you're going to have to tell me why your call sign is Prince," Rachel hedged.

"Later, Doctor. Later. It's a good thing it's dark out, or we'd probably have hostiles firing at us. Wish I knew who we were dealing with for certain, but I think we both know who was on that other roof."

"The Russians."

Tom nodded his assent, letting Rachel go as they reached the emergency exit.

"Stay behind me, Doctor," Tom whispered as he opened the door, M4 at the ready.

"But…" Rachel started to voice her disagreement but decided against it. _He's the one that's had the training. Let him do it, don't argue._

Tom surprised Rachel by being quite nimble on his feet as they made their way down the stairs. She could tell he was favoring his leg, but it seemed like he had turned off the pain – he wasn't flinching or making any sounds; he had a mission and it was going to be completed, gimp leg or no.

The duo made their way down the five flights of stairs and did not encounter anybody along the way, which Tom thought was weird. _There should have been men on their way to take this building… why aren't there? Do they think we've all evacuated? Do they think we died?_ _And why weren't they taking the stairs earlier? Why stay on that particular building and fight when you can end it quickly by a full frontal?_ Tom didn't have the answers as he meticulously cleared the way.

Tom found out why the hostiles hadn't bothered to come up after the sailors when they reached the bottom of the stairs. "It looks like LT Granderson's group set some explosives off at the only exit/entry point, which caused the entire entryway to be a pile of debris. Whichever side moving the debris would be sitting ducks for the other side, hence why no one from the other side chanced coming over," Tom distractedly stated as he tried to figure a way out.

"Can we crawl over?" Rachel asked as she walked around the debris looking for an escape.

"You're probably light enough, Doctor, and you'd probably be able to squeeze through… but I wouldn't want to chance you falling and impaling yourself on something."

Rachel nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

"Plus, I would be here… hmm. Let's go up to the 2nd floor and recon our options," Tom called as he took the stairs up to the second floor. "I'm guessing there's going to be a fire escape… we should be able to make a break for it then." Rachel followed behind, thankful for her NVGs in the pitch black.

Tom made his way down the apartment complex corridor on full alert. Experience had taught him that all was not what it always seemed: looks can be deceiving. All of the doors were wide open for each of the units, red Xes painted on each one.

Rachel tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "Can't we just walk into one of these ones?"

Tom shook his head, "Negative – we need one not visible to the other roof. I'm hoping there's an apartment on the other side of the building. We'll head to that unit." Rachel nodded her head and continued to walk. The captain and doctor eventually made their way through the hallways to the farthest units away from the street.

Cautiously, Tom pushed the solid wood door back, and scanned the room for anything unexpected. He motioned for Rachel to stay put as he cleared each of the rooms, finally coming back and shutting the door.

"There are some rotting bodies back in the bedroom, but other than that we're good to go. The fire escape is located either in the master bedroom or the extra bedroom. Extra bedroom is the best one to exit out of, and no bodies. Win-win," Tom said, coming to stand next to Rachel. "Let's go, doc."

Rachel followed Tom through the apartment building, glad that she had a strong stomach. The stench was not too bad considering the people had probably been dead about 6 months, but there was still a stench. They reached the window and Tom slid it open, letting the cooler air into the apartment. Tom scouted the area before throwing his leg over the windowsill, ducked under the window, and stepped through. Rachel just ducked under the window and stepped over the sill. _Oh the advantages of being short_ , Rachel mused. Tom rapidly closed the window to make sure no one knew of their existence and took two steps over to the stairs.

"Right on my six, doctor – this is going to swing down real fast once we hit the fulcrum. Don't want you falling," Tom whispered, taking the lead. Rachel sidled up as he gently shuffled forward, ready for the stairs to swing down to the street. All of a sudden Rachel and Tom heard a loud creaking sound as the stairs started to move slowly down to the earth. _There goes the element of surprise_ , Tom thought to himself as the fire escape clanked down onto the pavement.

Both the captain and doctor hit the ground running, not planning on sticking around to see who would come to investigate. The block, like the rest of Tampa, was desolate. Dogs barked in the distance, owls hooted overhead. A few streetlights working on solar power lit the night sky, beacons in the night. Rachel quickly learned to not look in the direction of the streetlights as her NVGs did not react well to them. Luckily for the duo nobody seemed to be following them.

After jogging for about twenty minutes Tom made a left into an alley to cut through to another street. He reached over and tapped Rachel on the shoulder, pointing into the dark shadows of the alley. Rachel nodded her head and they continued working their way to the _James._

The doctor leaned over towards Tom. "Are we being followed?" Rachel whispered. Tom nodded his head yes.

"They're about a half mile behind us, but I don't think they have any NVGs. We're getting close to the university. Hopefully they think we're heading back to the ship… so that means we can hole up in one of the buildings there and wait for the cavalry."

 _Too bad that Harley isn't around_ , Rachel mused as they skirted the quad and came around to the engineering building. Tom hurriedly looked not only behind them but up at the building. She quickly grabbed Tom's arm and asked, "Couldn't they still be here from earlier?"

"Unlikely – they don't know which of us has been left behind. Come on, we'll find a good place to hunker down."

Tom stealthily made it into the large, oppressive building. The atrium had glass windows to make everything seem brighter and during normal circumstances was probably overly cheerful. Rachel didn't have those thoughts at all as she watched Tom quickly walk over to the building directory on the wall. _What is he searching for? Food? The faculty lounge?_ She looked at him quizzically, but obviously didn't receive a reply as the captain continued to peruse. Finally he nodded his head and made for the stairs.

These stairs and walls, unlike the CDC stairs, were completely made of glass. Rachel could just make out the road in front of the building, wondering where their pursuers were… and if they had seen them walked into. _Hopefully they don't see us climbing these steps._ Tom stopped on the third floor, looking at the room numbers, and made a right. _Where are we going?!_ Rachel shook her head and concentrated on keeping up with Tom. Finally he stopped in front of a large ornate door. _The dean of engineering?_ Tom opened the door and Rachel let out a soft, "Oh," looking around the room. The dean had a corner office overlooking the quad. There were no blinds for the corner tinted windows, so whoever held this office could oversea everything that was happening outside. _Now I know why he wanted this office. He saw the windows while we were on the quad. Perfect, Tom._ Now they could watch for whomever: good guys… and bad.

Tom quietly shut the door and locked it. Taking in the rest of the room, Rachel could see the numerous books and engineering equipment scattered throughout. A small restroom was even situated through a door off to the right. Tom walked around and took stock of the situation, closing and locking doors, and moving objects to better fit his mission.

"Take a load off your feet doctor – you can take the couch," Tom stated quietly as he slid the desk over to the corner of the office with the windows. Rachel took in the comfortable couch and longed for the lumpy bed in her wardroom.

"But where will-"

"I won't be sleeping; I've got to make sure we don't have any uninvited guests," Tom said as he cleared the desk, pocketing an item. After making sure everything was off the desk, Tom laid down prone, facing the windows, M4 ready to fire in front of him. "Please, Doctor, in the past I've gone a few days without sleep; I'll be fine. You, however, need to rest – you've not been through the same training I have. That's not to say you couldn't do it – I'm sure you could – but please humor me," Tom quietly said, not looking over at her.

"Fine. Thank you." Rachel made her way to the couch that was parallel to the walls and within viewing of Tom. The leather couch squeaked as she sat down, and she let out a shaky breath. _Oh man does it feel good to sit down._ Taking off her med bag and NVGs, she set both down softly within reach. Rachel went to remove the vest – "Leave the vest on. We may have to exit rapidly," Tom quietly ordered.

"I didn't think of that. Okay. Well, good night, Captain. Please let me know if I can assist you at all."

Tom nodded his head in acknowledgement, and continued to survey the surrounding area. Rachel swung her legs up onto the couch and settled in on her side - it was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

"Doctor. _Doc-tor. Rachel, wake up,_ " Tom whispered from his perch in the corner. Rachel woke quickly, not knowing what the problem was.

"Yes?" Rachel whispered back as she sat up in darkness.

"We're about ready to have visitors. They were able to follow us… or they're checking all of the buildings," Tom said as he slowly backed off of the able.

"What are we going to do? Hide?" Rachel asked.

"They'll know we were here as soon as they open the door to this room. No, we've got to get as far away as we can. Grab your gear – let's go. And remember, follow my directions." Tom slowly opened the door and listened for any abnormalities. Not hearing any, he furtively swept down the hall, hardly making a sound. Rachel quickly followed behind trying to stay quiet.

The hallways were pitch black as the captain and doctor raced through them on their search for safety. They ran over the breezeway into another building – Rachel wasn't sure which direction they were running now. _Please help us to get safely out of here_ , Rachel chanted repeatedly in her head. _There's no way the Russians will treat us amiably… especially since we blew-up their ship_ , Tom mused, trying to figure out best-case scenarios for escaping.

All of a sudden Tom skidded to a stop, Rachel almost slamming into his back. He turned around and quickly backtracked for the stairs a few feet behind them. Just as Tom was reaching for the handle to open the door, it flew off its hinges, sending both Tom and Rachel careening back into the opposite wall. By the time both had hit the ground, they were both unconscious.

Rachel came to slowly. _I feel like I've been hit by a truck_ , she mused as she opened her eyes, realizing she was lying down in the back of a moving vehicle. As she struggled to keep her eyes focused, she remembered what had happened: the Russians, trying to escape, the door blowing off its hinges knocking her and- _Tom!_ _Oh no! Where is he! Is he okay!_ Worse case scenarios flew through her head as she struggled to clear the fog and started groping around.

"Shh, you're okay. We've only been knocked out a few minutes. Just stay still," a husky voice whispered from right in front of her.

"Tom," Rachel sighed as she realized that his arms were around her and that she was settled in his embrace.

Tom leaned towards here ear. "Right here, doctor. I just woke up right before you. I was starting to get worried you had some major brain damage. The Russians have taken us, in case you couldn't tell. Nothing we can do for the time being. Just relax. "

Rachel nodded her head slowly against his chest, not wanting to aggravate her head. _Just relax. Right. I wish I could keep as cool of a head as Tom. Speaking of Tom… neither of us has any of our gear, including our Kevlar any more. They must have stripped us when we were knocked out. How are we going to get out of this?_

Tom held on to Rachel and vowed to get them out of this mess, if it was the last thing he did.


	8. Chapter 8

Note - italics in this chapter indicate both thoughts or when someone is speaking Russian.

Tom kept an active watch while his charge rested, listening to the various sounds as the van bounced along the desolate roads. At times he could hear mumbling in the front of the vehicle; _Probably a driver and at least three other men_ , Tom mused. The men closest to him and Rachel didn't bother to turn around at all throughout the journey. _If it was just me, I'd try and slip out the back. Rachel's not trained to jump from a moving vehicle… wait, neither am I. My brain must really be jumbled._

"Rachel," Tom whispered into her ear, trying to get her attention. Rachel craned her neck to look up with him, eyebrows raised.

"How do you feel about jumping out of a moving vehicle? Luckily we're not traveling too fast."

Rachel slowly nodded.

Slowly the two sat up, trying to not make a sound to alert their captors. However, before they were able to execute their plan the van slowed down and came to a stop. Rachel's shoulders dropped as their window of opportunity slammed shut.

The driver's door creaked open and slammed closed along with the passengers' doors. Soon enough both back doors fanned open, which allowed the two prisoners to look at their captors, the weapons pointed at them, and surroundings for the first time.

The van had stopped in a giant warehouse. Except for the skylights and the open door they had just driven through everything was pitch black. Rotting food could be smelled, and small creatures could be heard scurrying around in the dark. One of their guards from the van went over to the garage door and yanked the chain, letting it clang to the ground. _Maybe the back of a box store supercenter?_ Tom thought to himself. _I guess it's not that bad of a location to raid given how many men there are here._

 _"Out!"_ the men screamed in Russian. _"Now! Admiral wants to see you!"_ When neither Tom or Rachel moved fast enough for their liking the men dragged them apart and out of the van. Two seedy looking sailors began escorting Rachel into the dark away from Tom and his entourage.

"Where are you taking her?! Stop!" Tom yelled as he watched, unable to do a thing. Rachel turned her head over her shoulder and nodded towards him before turning back to the route designated by her escort.

Tom turned back towards the men surround him and sighed as handcuffs were tightened around his wrists. _This is starting to be a habit. I really need to stop getting into these types of situations._

 _"Admiral has something fun planned for you Captain_ Chandler, _but first…_ " one of the guards taunted as he was led in the opposite direction of Rachel. His eyes adjusted to the complete darkness as the men walked him towards what looked to be offices. Rats skittered across the floor, weaving in and out of the men's feet. Overturned shelving littered their path causing the men to detour several times from their objective. Finally the men reached the far wall, which had an average commercial door with a nameplate swinging precariously from the center.

Guard #1 did not hesitate as he swung open the door and strode into the room. Tom took in his surroundings, not understanding what he was seeing. Not a single person or thing was in the room. It must have been a manager's office at one point, but nothing was left of that time. The small window on the wall had been barred over from both the inside and outside.

"I thought I was being taken to Ruskov," Tom inquired as the men turned and left without a word.

" _No, your doctor is talking with him first,"_ the guard grinned as the door slammed shut in Tom's face. Tom's face lost its cool as he paced the room, hands in front of him. He could barely make out the walls in the darkness, but the office was not larger than ten by fifteen. Walking over the door, he tried the handle. _Of course it's locked_ , Tom chided himself. _Well, let's hope you don't do anything I would do, Rachel. I can't lose you like I lost Darien._ The captain walked over to the wall beneath the window, turned around, leaned against it, and slid down. Now it was time to wait. He would be ready the next time the door opened.

"Now, welcome, Doc-tor Scott—" Ruskov conversed as he poured two drinks. Rachel blinked her eyes at the lit-up room as she was thrown into a seat at a run-of-the-mill card table across from Ruskov, two guards at either side.

"How did you escape from the ship? And without contracting the virus from Sorenson?" Rachel asked, looking around the room. The "room" the Russian guards had brought her to was the inside fast-food restaurant. Floodlights connected to generators illuminated the room. Men walked in and out of the entrance to the once-restaurant carrying goods from the store that had not rotted, along with other miscellaneous supplies.

"Oh, no, Doc-tor. I ask the questions," Ruskov chuckled, gesturing her to take a drink. Rachel ignored the drink and sat back in her chair, waiting for Ruskov to get on with his talk.

"I need the cure, doc-tor," Rachel went to interrupt Ruskov but he kept on talking over her. "I need it. If you do not give it to me then I will let my men torture Cap-tain Chandler, and then I will kill him in front of you. Slowly," Ruskov smiled.

"Now, do we, as the Americans say, have a deal?" Ruskov cocked his head to the side with a slimy smile on his face.

"I don't have it here with me – it's back on the _Nathan James._ I don't have it memorized," Rachel replied angrily. _Not exactly the whole truth, but it's a lose truth. I don't have it memorized, but the formula is in my things – wherever they may be. Probably in that van._

Ruskov's voice lost its buddy-buddy quality and gained the steel of a hardened navy admiral. "Not the answer I wanted, Doc-tor Scott." Ruskov silently nodded to another sailor as he leaned forward and took a drink.

"Let's see what Cap-tain Chandler has to say about this," Ruskov laughed. "I have a feeling he won't be as "macho" as the last time."

Rachel tightened her fists in her lap and ground her jaw together and awaited the admiral's next chess move.

Soon enough the doors to the rear of the store swung open. A group of heavily armed sailors walked in with Tom at their center.

"Ah, Cap-tain Chandler! It is so nice of you to join us. Please! Have a seat!" Ruskov motioned to an empty chair at the table. Tom blinked his eyes and tried to adjust to the sudden onslaught of artificial light. He walked over to the table and sat next to Rachel, giving her a cursory glance as he studied the room.

 _"She is fine, Captain. As of right now. However, she seems to not be that cooperative. She will not give me the cure, and I want it. Now. You were able to escape the last time, but your ship is not here; there's no one to rescue you. If you do not hand it over – I know one of you has it – I will have her in front of you. Then I will blow your ship out of the water as you watch. Then you will be my prisoners for the rest of your short lives."_

"My name is Thomas Chandler, Commander, United States Navy, serial number 4242022634," Tom recited, not breaking eye contact with the admiral.

The admiral clapped and sarcastically said, "Wow, Captain! I'm impressed! Even after everything I just told you, you're still giving me that answer. Let's see if you're still saying that after I'm done with you." The sailors behind Tom and Rachel yanked them from their chairs and herded them back into the darkness of the stock room where the vehicles were parked. This time, however, the group made their way deeper into the darkness, away from the loading zone.

Bright lights were turned on from somewhere. Tom was the first to see the overhead beam with the shackles attached. Sailors once again separated him and Rachel: him towards the shackles and her off to the side.

In his periphery Tom spotted another sailor with a cat-o-nine tails; they were going to whip him.

"Doctor, whatever they do to me, do not give them the formula for the vaccine," Tom called as his group made their way towards the chains.

"Captain Chandler, this is your life! They'll maybe find a cure no matter if we live or die!" Rachel yelled. She quickly eyed both of her personal captors standing next to her, two assault rifles at the ready.

"Doctor, I can handle this. Trust me. A few lashes aren't going to kill me."

Rachel's breath hitched as she spied the sailor holding the whip.

Two Russian sailors quickly ripped Tom's Navy issue blue t-shirt off of him, stringing him up by his wrists to the overhead beam.

"On the contrary, Cap-tain Chandler. Did you know that men often fainted due to high blood loss and eventually died hundreds of years ago? We'll see how long the United States' best can last," Ruskov gloated, walking around Tom and ending up next to Rachel.

Rachel watched, horrified, unable to do anything about Tom's predicament. She couldn't help but look at his broad back, but she quickly banished those thoughts. _Who can think of something like that in a situation like this? I've got to be going crazy. Focus, Scott! Focus._ She wasn't sure how they'd get out of this one – nobody knew that they had been captured.

"Captain-"

"Doctor, I'll be fine – just a flesh wound," Tom winked as his arms were pulled even tighter out of the sockets to make his back nice and taut.

"Ah, the bravado of the American military man: never say die, always the hero. Oh, I could faint!" cried Ruskov, laughing as his man walked closer with the cat-o-nine tails.

"Twenty lashes for now. You have been a – how do you Americans say it? – a thorn in my side – for far too long. We'll see how well Dr. Scott listens to you after that, Cap-tain."

Rachel strained her neck, trying to catch Tom's eyes as he steadied himself for the upcoming pain. Tom stared straight ahead, steeling himself for the upcoming pain.

The captain bit back a cry as the first lash came down on his back. _This is nothing compared to being a Plebe… I can do this. I will not allow this sadistic man to have the cure and sell it to the highest bidder. What does 'sell' even mean now in today's diseased world? There's no such thing as money… and I've got to get Rachel out of this. She and I have a lot to—_ Tom's thoughts were cut off as wave after wave of pain washed over him. Being in the Navy since 17, Tom knew how to survive pain, but he did not know how he would overcome the last few strokes; he could feel his bones and muscle open on his back, the blood gushing down to the floor of the warehouse. _Dammit I liked these NWUs. Hope they still have my size on the_ James.

"Captain! Cap-tain! _Tom!_ "

"Still here, Doctor," Tom grunted. "I was guessing what would be served for tea today. Green? White? Oolong? Maybe they'll spike it with some Stoli."

Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head at the defiance of the man she had known for just over a year.

Neither Tom and Rachel nor the Russians were prepared for the sound of automatic gunfire from the opposite side of the cavernous room. The sound of the Russians' return fire came as the twentieth lash ripped into Tom's flayed back.

"Get down, Doctor!" Tom shouted as chaos erupted around them. _Why couldn't they have done this before I was whipped?!_

Rachel fell to the floor as both men guarding her tumbled over in a dead heap.

"Doctor! Doctor Scott! Ra-chel! RA-CHEL!" Tom yelled, afraid she had been hit in the crossfire.

Rachel looked up from the floor in a daze.

"Rachel, grab the assault rifle next to you and get to cover, now!" Tom yelled.

"And what about you?! I can't leave you!" Rachel roared back as she grabbed the nearest SR-3M and struggled to keep it steady.

"We don't know who's firing on us – it doesn't sound like any of our ordinance – and the good guys don't know where we're at.

"Doctor, I think you may just want to leave me here – there's no way you're going to be able to carry me, and I don't think I'm one for walking right now."

"Well, still not leaving you here for either side… just let me find the keys to your shackles. What's the military saying, "leave no man behind?"

Rachel struggled to search the dead men's pockets as shouts of Russian and another language, along with bullets - whizzed all around her.

"Found them! They were in his bloody back pocket!"

"Good girl – now let's get out of dodge."

"Agreed."

Rachel scurried over to the captain, assault rife safely slung over her back.

Tom shook his head, and ground his teeth together as she unlocked his wrists, almost falling to the ground in the process.

"Told you, doc, this isn't going to be pretty."

"You let me worry about that Captain. Now chop, chop! One foot in front of the other! Did you want to grab that other gun?"

"It's a silenced automatic rifle, Doctor – it's not a gun." Tom and Rachel slowly made their way by the two sailors, one sans rifle.

"Well, whatever it is – do you want one as well?"

"Yes, but –" Rachel reached over with her foot and kicked the rifle up into her hands. Tom just stared at her as they made their way through the darkened warehouse.

"Football player. 15 years," she explained to his raised eyebrows and shell-shocked expression.

"You'll have to tell me all about that when we're not being shot at."

"When aren't we getting shot at, Captain?" Rachel grinned, "However, I'm not too sure we're getting shot at right now – all of the shooting seems to be happening to the Russians."

Tom slowly craned his head towards the sounds of gunfire, and sure enough, it was the Russians being pinned down. Nobody was paying the escapees much attention.

"Let's not stay to find out who wins," Tom commented, leaning heavily on Rachel as they tried to escape.

The two slowly made their way out of the warehouse, stopping every once in a while to catch their breath, and to make sure no one was following them.

"How's your back, Captain?"

"I feel like tenderized meat."

"I'm surprised you're still conscious."

"Well, couldn't leave my favorite paleomicrobiologist all alone now, could I?" Tom grinned.

"Always a charmer, aren't we?" Rachel chuckled.

"Stop." Tom stiffened as he heard men running and motioned Rachel behind the nearest shelving.

He leaned over and whispered, "Stay here. If I don't make it, you get the heck out of here and drive back to the _James_."

"But-"

"That's an order," Tom whispered as he stood up grunting – a little worse for ware – and rushed headlong into the throng of Russians, rifle spraying ahead of him.

"Stupid, pig-headed-hero, man," Rachel whispered as she watched from her vantage point behind the – she looked over – dog food.

"This really isn't going to save me from a high-powered rifle... might as well try and help him," Rachel mumbled to herself as she slung her SR-3M over her shoulder, placing it on the bags of dog food. Although she wasn't an expert marksman, Captain Chandler and his crew had taught her the basics over the past year. She had never wanted to learn, but she'd rather be prepared than be a hindrance in a tight ordeal. Today she counted as a tight ordeal.

Rachel aimed, fired, and repeated, taking out two men; Tom took out the other three.

"I thought I told you to stay there," Tom called out as he heaved in air, bent over at the waste.

"I did stay here – you didn't say I wasn't allowed to shoot."

"Come on, Doc – there'll be more hostiles coming this way after the commotion we just caused."

Tom slowly stumbled towards Rachel, and they made their way down the long corridor, his arm around her shoulders, hers along his belt loop.

"We make a pretty good team, doc."

"That we do, Commander. I just hope our fun has ended for the time being."

Tom couldn't agree more as they headed for the exit and freedom.


	9. Chapter 9

"Are we there yet?"

Rachel sighed from the front seat of their purloined SUV. "Were you this much trouble as a child, Captain?"

"Tom."

"Excuse me?"

"My name's Tom – please call me Tom."

"Rachel. I would shake your hand, but you're laying on the backseat of the car, and I'm driving; and how are you laying like that? Where are you feet?"

"Old Navy trick; if I told you I'd have to kill you. How did you start this car, anyway?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you, Tom," Rachel grinned. Tom's eyebrows raised in surprise.

Rachel shook her head and continued to drive. Luckily and unluckily there was nobody on the road: lucky because they would be able to see somebody following them, and unluckily because whomever was following would be able to see them. Quickly she glanced into the rearview mirror to check on Tom, only to see him shivering.

"Captain, are you shaking?! Are you cold? Hot?"

"Well, the girls always said I was hot…"

Rachel slammed on the breaks, coming to a stop on the side of the highway, barely missing a car haphazardly parked with all doors thrown open.

"I knew we should've stopped to make sure you were okay."

"Rachel, my back was torn open by twenty lashes – I'll be okay with a little R&R."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll take a 10-day R&R as soon as we get back to the ship," Rachel volleyed back, making her way around the vehicle to open the door by his head.

"We needed..." Tom didn't finish the sentence.

"TOM! CAPTAIN!" Rachel immediately felt his forehead – he was burning up. _Now he finally succumbs to unconsciousness. At least we were in the car… and I didn't have to drag him. But… no supplies, it's just about ready to be dawn, and I haven't the slightest idea on where we are. Looks like it's up to me to make sure Tom is okay._

Rachel hopped back into the drivers seat, carefully maneuvering through the throng of cars. Her head was on full swivel, looking for an exit that looked like it at one time had a thriving populace: she needed medical supplies pronto.

"Hello there, Captain. Welcome back to the land of the living."

Tom grunted as he slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings, trying not to move his back. He realized that he was lying on his stomach in a bed while Rachel sat curled up on a leather loveseat right next to him, one of the SR-3Ms on her lap, eating some food.

"Where are we?"

"Some big box warehouse."

"Why are we in the one place that's the hardest to protect? Doctor-"

"Rachel - we're going by first names, Tom – because this would have everything I needed to help you. They have a pharmacy right over there," Rachel motioned towards a far-off corner, "They have furniture – hence the bed you're laying on – and they had some food that folks hadn't cleaned out yet. Plus, no dead people lying around. Also, the Russians had a good idea – I'm stealing it.

"If you're really concerned, I set up some noisy traps to let us know if people were coming in."

"Okay. But how did you get me in here?"

"I drove," she said as she motioned to their car parked right behind her. Tom looked over in awe as he saw that the vehicle had been packed to the brim with things the sailors back on the _James_ would need.

"You did this all while I was out cold?"

"You've been out for awhile; the antibiotics I shot you up with really helped, along with some over stuff I concocted. I had a lot of time to go through the store."

"Thank you, Rachel."

"No problem – what was I to do? I don't have a clue as to where we're headed – directions are not my forté."

Tom chuckled, staring at her. "I'll have to teach you some navigation when we get back on the _James_ … we'll go out on the deck at night and I'll teach you all about the stars."

"Really? Oh that would be amazing!"

Tom kept gazing at her from his vantage point on the bed.

"Do I have something on my face? Why are you-"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"What do you mean why did I kiss you? Do you mean on the _Vyerni_?"

"Yes."

"Well, I figured you would be the best person for the ruse… you've always been quick on the uptake, and I knew you would catch on soon enough. Tex would've given everything away," Rachel said as she nervously swallowed. "Plus, you are the captain."

Tom cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over her face.

"I'm sorry that I kissed you – I knew that you were married – but it seemed like the only plausible way to get the knife to you."

Tom looked away, studying the darkened corners. "Darien would've understood – she was an amazing woman who never backed down from trying to help people in need. You would've liked her, and she would've loved you," Tom spoke solemnly.

Rachel stared down at her hands. _Why didn't I let them know earlier about my mission? Maybe some of these men and women could have saved their families. All because of me._

"Hey, it's not your fault." Tom somehow ended up kneeling next to her in her chair on the floor, taking her hand in comfort.

"Yes, it is MY fault! You could've saved Darien… and your crew could've had somebody to go home to!" Rachel's anguish could be heard in her voice.

"Hey! Stop it! Darien died because she was infected long after the fact… There's nothing you could have done to save her. Trust me – I beat myself up about that all the time. I'm just glad my father, Ashley, and Sam are safe. Now _that_ is thanks to you. So thank you, Rachel," Tom whispered as he slowly moved to kiss her temple.

Rachel's breathing hitched as she felt his lips on her head, and struggled to remain calm as one of his hands grasped the other side of her face, angling it towards him.

"This isn't your fault. Thank you for everything that you've done. You are an amazing woman, and I'm proud to know you. Stop beating yourself up over something you had no control over."

Rachel nodded slowly, and gathered the courage to raise her eyes to his. _Oh my goodness what are we doing? We're all alone in a *warehouse* and this is when we decide to do this?! Totally not safe, Scott – not at all!_

"Tom," Rachel whispered as he slowly slid an errant piece of hair behind her ears.

"Hmmmm…."

"I think these are the drugs talking. You can't possibly want to kiss me when it could go to hell in a handbasket in a second. You're always telling me to be aware of my surroundings."

Tom grinned as he kissed her forehead. "Sorry, you're right – but as soon as we're back on the _James_ we're finishing this talk.

"For now though," Tom started as he began to push off his knees, trying to move.

"And just what do you think you're doing? I had to stitch up some portions of your back – you shouldn't be moving."

"I need to use the head."

"Oh, well, let me help you up."

"I'm fi-," Tom said as he started to fall back onto his mattress.

"Okay, maybe I do need some help," he relented.

Slowly Rachel pulled him up, almost falling down herself in the process.

"There is no way you weigh 85 kilograms."

"Excuse me?"

"187 pounds – I read your BUPERS packet, Commander," Rachel grunted as they slowly made their way to the restroom by way of Rachel's flashlight.

"Well, that was a while ago… maybe when I was 35. Oops," Tom frowned.

After taking care of his business, Tom slowly walked back under his own power.

"Are we good to go with the Pilot? Anything else you want or need?"

"We need some ammunition, Tom, but I'm not sure where we'll find that."

"Hopefully we won't-"

Tom was cutoff by loud cursing as somebody tried to make their way into their warehouse. He immediately grabbed for the flashlight, turned it off, and turned them around in one fell swoop. The duo hobbled back towards the car, and grabbed the assault rifles as they went. Hopefully their new 'friends' would just decide to move on.


	10. Chapter 10

"Stay here – I'll see if they're gone."

"Rachel-"

Rachel glared at Tom as she pushed him towards the car and took off towards the front of the store, keeping to the shadows. _Very glad I made those additions to the front of the store before it got dark last night or we could've had some unexpected guests._ Rachel continued to make her way to the front of the store, jogging hunched over. _Don't want to make that large of a target, or let anyone know that I'm coming. And there I go again – I've been hanging out with these sailors for far too long._ Rachel shook her head and slowly slid to a stop next to the first set of doors. Sliding her back along the wall, she gradually edged her head and gun around to look through the glass.

"Nate! Stop!" Dan called to his brother frantically as Nate kept stepping into the makeshift noise trap outside.

"C'mon, Dan – we need the supplies! It's just someone's poor attempts to stop us from goin' in." Nate struggled through the chains, attempting to make it to the front of the store.

"But, look!" Dan pointed to the large "X" painted in red on the now out of order sliding glass doors that Nate had made his way to. "And it seems new," Dan hedged, a little afraid. Nervously, he wiped his nose on his faded plaid shirt.

"Fine, but we're stopping at the next store – red X or not – we need supplies," Nate called as he hurriedly made his way through the chains.

"Can't believe we got shanghaied into helping out a bunch of Russians," Dan mumbled as he jogged to keep up with Nate.

Rachel kept watch as the two men returned to their battered pick-up truck and peeled out of the parking lot, not wanting to miss them turn-around. Slowly exhaling the breath she didn't know she had been holding, she backed away from the door… into a solid wall of muscle.

Reacting purely on instinct, she brought back her elbow as fast and hard as she could, thanking Tex in her head for teaching her basic self-defense. Her elbow met a warm hand, and she heard a grunt as she spun around on her toes, automatic rifle at the ready.

"Doctor, it's just me," Tom held up his hands trying to placate her.

"Do you know that I could've shot you?! Or worse?! Captain! You can't sneak up on me like that!"

Tom chuckled as he pushed the muzzle to the ground.

"I had to make sure you were safe. Come on – let's go back, get the car, and blow this popsicle stand. Maybe we'll make it home in time for dessert. Maybe Bacon will prepare my favorite."

"I really don't think you should be up walking around, and definitely not driving. I'll let you sit up front, but that's only because the back is full of stuff."

"What all do you have back there?"

"Canned food, first aid kits – a lot of those," Rachel mused, "…CDs, DVDs, some games, a computer nobody stole, toothpaste, a camera, books, lots of glasses, all of the contacts from the optometrist's, underclothes, the last generator, deodorant… I wish I could take more – won't really make much of a dent when there are over 200 sailors – but any little bit will help."

"Well, I'm sure everyone will appreciate what you've done, considering we weren't even on supply detail."

"Wait! I got it! Stay right here Captain – I need to run over to the storage section." Rachel didn't wait for a reply as she jogged off to the other side of the store, rifle in hand. Quickly she scoped around for what she wanted, letting out a grunt as she came back towards Tom and the car.

"Rachel, we don't need car carriers."

"But then we can take the rest of the shoes! And all of the medicines in the pharmacy. Trust me – we're going to need medicine – your sickbay isn't going to last us forever. You sit on the bed – I'll take the carriers over on the shopping cart and be back quick. Go sit." Rachel's eyes lit up as she hurried off to finish stocking up. _Who knows what we'll need?_

Tom ground his teeth, looking down to his NWUs, and realized he didn't have them on any longer. _This is the first I've been out of uniform in a year. Rachel must have taken them off when she was cleaning my back. They were probably ruined anyway with all the blood._ The khaki cargoes were a perfect fit, and Tom promised to thank her later.

As time went on, he took some survival materials and slipped them into his pockets – you never knew when you'd need matches, a knife, or flares. He slipped his dog tags into a pocket as well – the mess on his back didn't like the metal tags swinging around. Tom eventually sat back on the bed, out of view, behind the car. He kept looking at his watch and towards the direction Rachel ran off. _Luckily she took the SR-3M with her – the woman's quite a shot even if she won't admit it. Although if she's not returned by 1400, I'll be going for her. We've got to get back to the ship, supplies or no._

Feet shuffled, causing Tom to go on alert. He had expected Rachel to come back with a shopping cart – not walk back empty handed.

Tom, using his training, stealthily slipped into the shadows with his rife.

"I'm telling you! It's just me!" Rachel called out, voice strained.

"Nate! C'mon, we didn't sign up to torture people or steal things from them! Especially a woman!"

Nate ignored Dan's tirade, and twisted Rachel's arm up further behind her back as they walked towards the SUV, causing her to stifle a scream. _If he twists any more, my shoulder is going to dislocate or worse. Please, Tom, please have left._

"Please, I just holed up in here for a little bit to stock-up. I'm all by myself."

"Well then what's all this stuff for… and why isn't there anything in the front seat?" Nate countered.

"I have a friend over at the outdoors store… I'm picking him up from there next."

Nate ignored Rachel as he eyed the set up. "You needed to sleep here as well?

"Come on Dan, find the keys – we're leaving after I take care of some business," Nate grinned.

Dan wandered off out of view to look for the keys, leaving Rachel and Nate alone.

"Please let me go, you're hurting my arm," Rachel cried out.

"Oh, babe, that's going to be the least of your worries; I'm going to tie you up over here and show you a good time," Nate grinned as he caressed Rachel's face.

"Dan! I'll be back in a second! Just find those keys!"

Nate shuffled Rachel over into a more secluded section of the store. _Okay, Captain – any day now. I know you aren't still on that bed._

"Now, where should-"

Nate never finished his sentence as Tom stepped up behind him and snapped his neck in one fluid motion. Rachel stumbled forward, cradling her arm to her chest. Tom gently cupped her good shoulder, and quietly asked if she was okay. She nodded her head and released a shaky breath. Both heard the loud footsteps at the same time and reacted. Tom quickly maneuvered himself in front of Rachel, ready for the next threat, and Rachel stood slightly behind him, ready for a fight.

"Hey Nate! Found the keys! They were in the visor. Who-" Dan stopped as he stepped around the vehicle and took in the picture in front of him: one very angry man in jump boots and khakis holding an assault rifle standing protectively in front of the lady, with his brother on the ground.

"Nate…" Dan whispered.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you," growled Tom.

"Tom, let him go – he's harmless – and he wasn't the one about to hurt me." Tom glared at the man, giving him an even stonier expression. Rachel gently touched his bicep, causing Tom to relax slightly. "Okay, leave. But next time, be a gentleman and stand up for a lady in distress. Now get going," Tom yelled, keeping the man in his sights.

"Y-y-yes, sir," Dan called, tossed the keys to Tom, and ran off. Tom and Rachel watched him as the captain kept sweeping the area for other surprises.

"Get in, we're leaving," called Tom as he made his way to the passenger side of the vehicle.

"But-"

"No. We're leaving. I'm still in charge."

"Well, I'm the one who's driving… and we're going to pick up the car carriers. They were packed just as tweedle dee and tweedle dumb snuck up on me. Plus, one of them has my rifle," Rachel smiled as she started the vehicle and traversed the store at a slow pace.

"I thought you had rigged something up for the entrances? And what about your shoulder?"

"The shoulder can take one for the team. As for the warning system… well, I may have missed the side employee entrance."

"Hmm. You need to talk to the Master Chief when we return – he'll have to help you out with Petty Officer 101: Observation," Tom grinned.

"Thanks, but I'll leave that to the professionals – wouldn't want to put you guys out of a job," Rachel smirked, threw the car into park, and stepped out of the vehicle.

"Well, are you coming or not? I need your help," Rachel leaned back into the car.

"Coming, Doctor," Tom slowly swung himself out of the car, grimacing as he walked up to the carriers. Rachel quickly reached down into the carrier closest to her and pulled out her rifle.

"Are they both full?"

"Yep. They don't weigh that much – maybe 100 lbs? – but I need your leverage." They managed to each lift a side of the long sleek carrier and place it on the roof. Rachel ran over to the other side, opened the passenger door, stepped up, and maneuvered the carrier, strapping it down as Tom did the same on his end. The second carrier went up just as easily as the first.

"Okay, time to get back to the _James_ – they're going to be sending out search parties very soon if they already haven't. The other teams should be back this evening with their families. When did we leave the Russians again?"

"Two days ago… roughly 0430. I drove – I don't know which direction. South maybe?"

"Rachel – have you ever been to Florida before?"

"No…"

"You should've gone west. You really need those navigation skills," Tom remarked.

"This is why you're not allowed to pass out anymore."

"That's okay – we just need to make it back to Tampa. Not sure where we are if you said you drove two hours."

"Well, I didn't drive the speed limit – too many abandoned cars. I wasn't sure where Ruskov had taken us, and I just wanted out of there."

"Just drive, doc – I'm not passing out this time," Tom smiled from the passenger seat.

Rachel cautiously maneuvered through the store, driving up to the garage door. She quickly opened her driver's door, walked over to the emergency release, pushed the button, and walked back to the vehicle. _Not staying here longer than need be – the door can stay open._ Rachel carefully drove through the door, her captain at her side, her cache all around them, and prayed that the drive back to the _James_ proved to be uneventful; Tom needed real medical attention for his back, and she needed some uninterrupted sleep. And a toothbrush.

"And Tom?" Rachel reached over and squeezed his knee. Tom looked over as he felt the pressure on his leg.

Rachel glanced over as she turned out of the parking lot, "Thanks."

Tom gazed at her, gathering her hand in his. "Always, Rachel. Always."

"Now, hop on that main road going that way…" Tom pointed. Rachel nodded, driving off into the proverbial sunset. "Next time we're out on the road, it had better be on a Harley."

"Agreed, Tom." Rachel smiled as they made their way down the interstate.

"Now, about your nickname… and why did Jim call me Ariel?"

"Ever watch The Little Mermaid?" Tom grinned.

"The crew has us together?!" Rachel yelled, eyes wide as saucers.

"Well—"

"No, they are not giving me the handle of a mermaid! I will choose my own handle."

Tom chuckled as he placed their hands together on the center console.

"That's not how the Navy—"

"I don't care! I am 39 years old for goodness sake!"

It was going to be a fun ride back to the _James_ for both Prince and Ariel; Tom couldn't wait to see Mike's face when Rachel realized it was him that had given her the name.

Okay! My second story is in the books. I hope you enjoyed it. Like I said at the beginning of Breathe, I'm not a writer. Never have been; I'm a much better proofreader. However, these plot bunnies just wouldn't leave my head. Hence, story. And sorry for any mistakes - they've only been given a cursory glance by yours truly.

Be safe & make it a great day, fellow Internet TLS fans.


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